Awake and Unafraid
by Miss Anne Thropy
Summary: AU...Deanna Winchester has always been closed off, even to her beloved brother Sam. But after coming back, she has to make a decision, no matter what will come right after. Some spoilers for season 4.


_Awake and Unafraid_

Deanna wasn't supposed to show how much it tore her apart, that whole missing Sam thing. Deanna told herself that, but she knew that she was lying to herself, pretending to be tougher than she really was. She was soft without Sam to see her through life. She knew that when he first left her, a skinny, snot nosed girl with messy hair and hand me down clothes. And she knew it now that she was a somewhat capable woman that still had tangled hair and hand me down clothes.

Sam didn't see her that way. He thought she was selfish to trade her life for his. But she didn't think so. After all, she was the one that barely finished High School. Sam got a full ride to Stanford. He was going to do something other than hang around seedy bars and hunt things that existed mostly in people's imagination.

She wanted him to have that again. As much as it hurt her, she wanted him to live. To be something more than what she was. To be with someone else that he could love without shame or guilt, since she couldn't be that for him ever.

So she hid everything. Hid how much it killed her to leave him alone. Hid how much she really wanted to touch him, tell him she was scared of leaving him alone. Hid how much she wanted for him to throw the caution he nurtured so strongly and make love to her like her done with Jess and Madison. She also hid how much she wanted for him to hold her and tell her it was going to be fine.

Deanna honestly thought that was the best way to handle everything. After all, it had been the way that John had drilled into her once Sammy had gone off to college. And even though she wasn't blind to its failings, that was probably the best weapon she could ever wield. There was too much out in the world that could hurt her and Sammy. Despite being at the end of her life, she didn't want to give it up just yet.

But days, weeks and months went by and when she found herself hanging from meat hooks in hell, she realized that it was simply too late. All hope was gone and Sam wouldn't ever know what she wanted for him.

That was the last conscious thought she had before it all turned red and black with chaos and agony.

**-O-O-**

It wasn't hard to forget all of the good things that happened to her, being stuck in the pit as she was. The daily routines of humiliation, misery, agony and pain have almost become normal now. She wondered occasionally when the humanity is going to be completely stripped away and when she was going to go back up there as one of _them_. The thought made her both shudder and nearly retch simultaneously. How could she even contemplate such a thing is proof to her how far she had fallen and how much she truly deserved to be there.

Deanna's only comfort in all of the tortures was the thought that at least Sam was still alive and safe and able to really live as he had wanted for so long. She hoped that it would be better than what she had to endure in hell.

Time had no meaning in hell; she found this out really quickly. She sometimes mused that it had to do with the fact that every single thing was exactly the same. Nothing was varied, really. Sure, the demons may have decided to change the order of the torments, but in the end, the outcome is the same. If there was pain and agony going on without a break, then it was constant, no matter what was done to change it.

Deanne sometimes wondered when she was given a bit of a breather before the next torment came, whether Sam had already lived his allotted time span on earth. She only thought about this for a split second before the barrage of pain and humiliation washed over her and her mind was scoured blank of any thought or emotion. That was the worst part, she thought. The torments were secondary to the fact that there was no anchor that kept her from the agony of everything that they did to her.

She wondered when she was going to go mad. She already lost quite a bit of hope and she was teetering on the edge of sanity. The memory of Sam was the only thing that kept her from going full on insane. She suspected that if she did, she wasn't going to be Deanna Winchester anymore. She was just going to be another one of hell's minions. That was a fate that she wanted to delay for as much time possible. But secretly, she had to wonder whether it was going to come sooner than she wanted it to.

**-O-O-O-**

When Deanna finally made her way to Bobby's scrap yard, she wasn't sure whether to be really pissed off or to acknowledge that nothing came easy to her. That everything had to be a struggle or else it wasn't for her. She stopped herself from making anymore little asides. After all, she wasn't a pile of ashes. She supposed the universe counted that as a positive and fair payment for her having to dig her way out of a grave and hot-wire a car that had been around as long as sin to get to Nowhere, North Dakota.

Sometimes, she was sure that she was going to have to comment to someone about the positives and negatives systems check in the universe. Otherwise, she was at a loss to explain why the weird and lousy things always happened to her and her family. There was no reason why a certain group of people had to get the short end of the stick constantly.

She shrugged off the self-pity when she nearly gets skewered by Bobby. After some fast talking and being soaked of holy water, Bobby's convinced and explaining what went on during the time she was out. Deanna felt her mouth tighten in a line over several things that Bobby told her before she cut him short and asked to use the shower.

Once she was under the hot spray, she began to mull things over. Namely whether her brother went against her wishes and the curious disappearing act he'd been pulling for the last while. She was so lost in her thoughts that it wasn't until the water hit a sore spot on her upper right arm that she looked and saw the handprint.

Someone or something pulled her out of hell. Something or someone powerful enough to do that had to have something major on their agenda. So major that they bothered to pull her out of the pit rather than let her rot there. She had to believe that version of the story because the alternative was something she didn't want to even contemplate.

She shuddered at the thought, but pushed it firmly out of her mind as she got down to the practical work of getting all that grave dirt and sweat out of her skin and hair. Plus, there was another thing that has caught her attention. All the scars and breaks she ever accumulated in her lifetime were gone. After a cursory inspection as she lathered up, she saw nothing but smooth skin. Which lead her to wonder whether she was...?

Deanna stopped washing and debated checking that particular fact out. In the end, she decided that there was enough proof evident and finished getting clean. There were other more important things at stake, she told herself before rinsing off one last time and turned off the shower. She knew she's lying to herself with that logic in the end, but she refused to admit the truth. As if it could happen anyways.

-O-O-O-

About three hours later, she really wanted to kill both Bobby and Sam. Oh, and the universe also, for throwing the fucken curveballs in the first place. She tried to not go over the top and strangle her little brother and the man that has been more of a father to her than John Winchester was, but it was hard. And she had never been known for her patience or her ability to coolly think things through before the next step comes.

She also knew that they forget about her gender sometimes. She had to be one of the boys to survive the training and the hunting. And yes, it did get annoying to pretend that she didn't notice things and really shouldn't be too upset that Sam had a perky little brunette when they came for him and that Pam looked like she hung around Hell's Angels rallies. It was all part of the job and she should take it in stride. This is good and firm logic, but it didn't prevent her from giving Pam the hairy eyeball when she invited Sam to her bed later on.

Pam must have caught on to that possessiveness because she quickly was all business. She set things up in a terse fashion and only gave Deanna a few cursory glances before they all sit around the table and try to call up whatever got Deanna out of hell. Deanna, for the most part, gave her a wooden eyed stare as they get on with the production.

She felt bad about it later on. Really bad to the point that she kept quiet when Sam took over the driving and they end up in a crappy diner with even crappier service. Translation: demons that they manage to beat down with the minimum amount of fuss and get going. Deanna didn't get her pie and that pissed her off even more.

Sam didn't even register any of this. He drove them to the crappy motel that they were calling home for a bit and gets settled in for the night. Deanna felt let down as he got ready for bed without even acknowledging she was in the room with him. Somehow, that coldness makes something in her snap.

That was the only thing she could say later on, when she thought about it. There was no other reason for her to jump off her bed and tackle him onto his bed before punching him across the face. His face is shocked and pale, except for the red handprint as he looks up at her in disbelief.

"I just came back, you asshole! The least you can do is look at me!" she screamed at him before she grabbed handfuls of his hair and kissed him. He protested, but it was muffled since she was kissing him like she'd been starved for his mouth all her life. She kept on going, biting his bottom lip, sucking it, getting her tongue into his half-open mouth and tasting all of him because she knew if she stopped, he was going to push her away. Sure enough, he bit her tongue and made her jump away.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked her low and quiet. Deanna lowered her eyes and swallowed hard as she thought about the question. Why did she do it? She wasn't sure herself.

"We can't do that. No matter how much you or I want it. It's a line we can't cross." Sam told her in the silence that followed his question. His answer made Deanna snort with humourless laughter.

"Why can't we, it's not like I've not gone to hell already," she informed him in a flat voice. Sam winced at the comment, but didn't say anything.

"I've wanted you. All my life, I've been waiting for you. I love you and I don't even know why. I've seen you at your best and at your worst and I still want you. I don't give a fuck about crossing lines. I just want you. Can't you understand that?"

Sam's lips tightened at this question, but to his credit, he didn't turn away from her. He looked at her straight on and gave her yet another reason to lose her heart to him. A lesser man would have already flinched and turned away, but Sam still kept his gaze on her and would till the bitter end.

"I know you want me. I've known it for years, Dee. Don't you think that I wouldn't have caught on? But you're my little sister. You're the one I took care of for years and watched grow up into the only woman I've wanted. You're the only one that I've wanted to protect...the one that I failed first, before Jess and Madison."

He paused there and took a deep breath. It was still a sore point for him, those two deaths. She let him take his breather. She owed him that much at least.

"I don't want you to protect me, Sam. I know how impossible that is. I just...I just want you so much. I don't care what comes next. I just want that one moment with you, the person that I love the most," she finished, her voice hardly above a whisper as she spoke.

Sam swallowed hard and sighed noisily. He looked down at her hand, which found its way on his chest before he looked up at her again. She didn't know what kind of expression was on her face, but something in it made him soften his own expression ever so slightly.

She later asked herself if it was pity. Or an unresolved debt he wanted to clear up that makes him choose his course of action. Or maybe it was his own unspoken desires that prompted his actions. She didn't think too deeply about his motives. Nor would she ask him about them in case he gave her the answer that was truthful, but would hurt her in the end.

He put his hand on the back of her head; his thumb traced the line of her cheekbone before he murmured, "This once. Just this once," and pulled her up close, his lips barely ghosted over hers when he finally took the plunge and all of her fears and thoughts disappeared as she sunk into the feel and taste of his mouth.

She wasn't getting enough air, but didn't want to pull away from his mouth just yet. She wanted to taste all of him before she pulled away and then went back to do it again and again until the taste of him was mingled with hers. His hands were busy over her body while this was going on. She only noticed how busy when she pulled away for some oxygen and noticed her flimsy camisole and black lace bra were gone and his hands were the only covering her breasts.

Deanna blushed a bit as she watched him cup her breasts, his big fingers splayed over the soft mounds like an artist touching raw clay. He wasn't rough, keeping his needs and emotions in check as he moved his fingers so that he held the weight of them in his palms. His middle fingers moved over her nipples and she shuddered as the calloused tip rubbed over the puckered flesh.

He gave her a shy grin when he noticed her reaction and dipped his head to lick and suck at her breast. When she felt his lips close around her nipple, she sighed, her breath catching in her throat before she threw her head back. His tongue, warm and damp on her skin made her head spin. She wanted him to keep on going, over and over again until he reached deep inside of her.

He seemed to know what was on her mind, because he kept on going until she was slick with his saliva from her breasts down to her belly, her abdomen and when he stripped off her panties before he gently laid her down on the bed; between her legs. He hummed to himself as he licked the outside of her labia, and then parted the lips with his tongue. A long, slow lick followed, like the kind he used to eat ice cream and the image made her quiver and moan slightly. Sam took this as encouragement and he licked her again, making her open up a little wider. More licks followed and she was sure that her entire blood supply was engorging her cunt.

She'd been squeaking and moaning for what felt to her like forever, wordlessly begging him to stop teasing her and get inside her already. But he was taking his time with her. At first, it was him licking her all over and sucking on the hard knot of flesh that was so swollen; every time he brushed his lips on it she jumped and gave a little scream. And now, he'd got his fingers inside of her, scissoring and thrusting at her, as if he was testing to see if she was ready for him to move on.

"I just don't want to hurt you," Sam murmured as he moved his fingers again, this time a little more aggressively. "You're really tight. Like a virgin. I didn't think you'd be so tight."

Deanna didn't say anything about his observation, she knew the truth and she didn't care at that moment. She just wanted him inside of her or she'd to _explode_. She was sure of it.

It's as if he read her mind at that moment, he took his fingers out and positioned himself above her, making her look at him in anticipation. He stopped for a bit and heard the sounds of jeans and boxers coming off and the ripping of a packet. Those few noises and movements tell her Sam was still Sam. No unprotected sex for him. Sam gave her a small reassuring smile that somehow made everything fine and worth it before he goes into her slowly. She knew she was a virgin again, but the resistance and the pressure makes it all completely real rather than a theory. She gasped and he muttered something to himself as he thrust a few more times, getting nowhere and causing her pain.

She tried to be stoic about the pain. After all, she was the one that initiated it all, so she should just bear down and not cry about it. But Sam noticed the tears in her eyes them and murmured soothing noises in her ears before he finally gathered up enough courage to get a big thrust through. She whimpered when he got through and she swears she could almost hear a popping noise when it happened. She didn't have time to ponder this because he was moving. Not slowly, but steadily as he worked out his rhythm.

He moved and it sometimes hurt, the way that his overheated flesh rubbed against her, but she didn't want to tell him to stop. She opened her legs wider to give him more access and complied when he told her to lift her legs up and wrap them around his waist. He was moaning in her ear as he thrust, faster, harder, then slow and soft. He moved his hips in circles, and made his cock touch everything inside of her. She groaned when this happened and bit her lip.

She lost the sense of time again, but this time, it was a good feeling. She didn't want for him to stop or end. She knew her Sammy and if he said this was the only time, it will be the only time. The only time she was ever going to get this close to him and she wanted it to last. She thought it was going to stop when Sam pulled out and pushed her on her side. She was puzzled and got a bit disappointed, but that stopped when he re-entered her again and wrapped his hands around her boobs, cradling them to her chest as he thrust with his same rhythm and speed.

She laughed softly and put her hands on top of his as he moved over and over again. She heard him tell her to move her legs up and his fingers started a blind search for her cunt and then her clit, making all thought impossible for what felt like hours on end. His hands were amazing and he wasted no time showing her all that he could do with them.

Deanne bit her lip when she felt her orgasm cresting up inside of her. It was like a wave of heat and pain moving up from her core into the rest of her body. It wasn't a uniform wave, but rather like a hell of a lot of ripples that went in soft until they ended up completely overwhelming her and left her giving out throaty moans and strangled words that were lost in the night once the wave crested and she was dripping fluid all over Sam's hand.

He muttered something. She heard him, but was too out of breath to notice what it is he said. When he moved, it felt like he was moving through water and that made him get even more excited, she noticed dimly when his own breathing got hoarse and he came with a small noise, almost like a quiet sigh that got lost in the darkness of the night.

-O-O-O-

The horrible noise pulled her out of sleep and out of bed. Deanne grabbed her jeans and Sam's t-shirt, stuffed her gun in her waistband and went outside to see what it was.

To her surprise, a man in a trench-coat stood in the parking lot, looking up at the sky as if nothing was out of the ordinary. Her heart leapt into her mouth and she pulled out the gun just in case it was a demon standing there in wait for her. She shot at him, but the bullets did nothing to the man. If anything, he looked..._disappointed_ in her and that made her more uneasy than snarling malevolence ever could.

"I'm not a demon, Deanna Winchester." The man told her as he came closer to her. She saw that he was actually a pleasant looking man and she could imagine him working some desk job and living his life quietly and unobtrusively.

"I'm Castiel. The one that pulled you out of hell to fulfill God's plan for you," the man, or Castiel, told her in a calm voice that made her go cold.

"We know what happened tonight. Consider it the other freebie you're going to get. There's no one else that can do this, so we'll overlook your indiscretion," Castiel told her, his eyes cold and unblinking as he spoke. Deanna opened her mouth and was about to retort, but the minute she tried, she was lying on her own bed, her clothes on and Sam was yelling at her to wake up and get ready because they were headed out soon.

She looked around and was surprised to see nothing was really disarrayed. Sam's bed looked as pristine as a cheap motel bed was going to look and there weren't clothes scattered around. She climbed out of her own bed and casually passed by the wastebasket. She saw nothing out of the ordinary there: just papers, wrappers, pop bottle. That was all.

She went into the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush and Sam moved to get out of her way as always. She chanced a glance and saw that there was nothing different about his usual annoyed at the start of the day expression he always had on before noon.

She grabbed the toothpaste and squirted some on it as she watched Sam rinsed out his own mouth, got out and finished the packing or something. She felt curiously numb as she started brushing her teeth, unsure whether this was a better or worse turn of events.

She still hadn't decided even when they were fifty miles out of town. She wasn't sure if she ever would.

End.


End file.
